Oliver's Game
by Acriculus
Summary: Oliver Wood loves Quidditch. Quidditch and family - thats it. Can one rival chaser shooting for the other team change all that? Rated M for later chapters. Oliver Wood/Marcus Flint, starts at the end of fourth year and will end some time in seventh year.
1. Inebriation

**Authors Note: **I'm making an attempt at my favorite couple - or one of them, at least. Marcus/Oliver - this is only my second fanfiction, so excuse me if its bad. xD

**Things I Own: **The Rocky Horror Picture Show movie, A bowler hat, A sketchbook full of awesome drawings

**Things I Don't Own: **A sense of style, The ability to sing, and unfortunately Harry Potter.

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Chapter One

Inebriation

The game had been brutal. Oliver groaned as he clutched his injured arm, knowing it was just bruised but all the same. A bludger never did hit you without making you wish it'd have just knocked you off your broom to put out your misery.

Of course, Oliver Wood didn't wish himself dead. You couldn't play quidditch when your six feet under, and quidditch was his life. All the same, though, he wasn't going to be making any spectacular saves in practice between now and the next match.

He managed somehow to undress himself with just the one arm, finally making it to the showers to wash off the head-to-toe mud that adorned him. _How do you even get mud on you when your in the air? It isn't as though you playing on the ground! _He grumbled to himself, scowling as he worked the kinks out of his worn muscles.

They had lost the game, giving Slyltherin the quidditch cup for the fourth year in a row. They needed a better seeker - someone who could actually catch the bloody snitch. He banged his head against the nearest wall, knowing that if they found one the choice wouldn't be left to him. He wasn't captain. _Yet._ He corrected himself. _Not captain yet. Its only a matter of time... next year, maybe. I'll be old enough then...._

The thought didn't keep him from practically drowning himself in the showers, however, and when he finally came back into the locker room wearing only a towel, he was the only one still there. He shifted through his locker, muttering vague nothings about strategy and plays, finally pulling out a clean pair of muggle-style jeans and a grey cashmere sweater that his grandmother had given him. The sturdy fourth-year pulled them on distractedly, pushing his soiled gear into a duffel bag to take back to his dorms for cleaning and throwing the soaked towel into the laundry.

By the time that he was making his way back up to the castle, it had stopped raining. He strolled leisurely across the grounds, not that eager to get inside so that he could be bombarded by insults for all the saves he had fumbled. They should have been blaming the seeker - he was the wanker who couldn't see the snitch right in front of his blood face. Not to mention the Slytherins would be celebrating, meaning loud and raucous parties that would no doubt result in less than sober upper-class men strolling about after hours with the detentions and deductions of house points racking up.

_Okay, Maybe its not that bad..._He allowed with a low chuckle. He still was upset that Gryffindor hadn't taken the cup, though.

The keeper found himself wandering up the marble steps, preparing himself to head up to Gryffindor tower. He wanted to be ready when the insults started bombarding him.

**"Oi! Wood!"**The Scott tensed as someone called him, looking over his shoulder to see who it was.

Marcus Flint, one of the Slytherin chasers, was at the bottom of the stairs, voice slightly slurred, no doubt from the alcohol that had been smuggled into the dungeons by this long after the game.

**"Flint."** He acknowledged, grimacing. **"Shouldn' ya be at y'ur little after-party?" **

**"Jus' came from there." **The larger between them replied curtly, managing to pull himself up the first few steps without face planting but tripping over the next one, and with a fantastic thud went sliding back to the bottom.

Oliver muffled a laugh, knowing that if it came to a fight he would most surely lose. The Slytherin quidditch team was known for its habit of employing abnormally large, ugly people for its use, and Marcus was no exception.

**"Well, get on with it then. Whatcha want?" **He wasn't really in the mood to play these games with the troll-like pureblood.

**"I jus' wanted to say good game."**

The Gryffindor was quite surprised by this. Since when did a Slytherin show any sentiment such as a compliment towards a Gryffindor? A quidditch rival, no less?

**"Err... thanks?" **His thick Scottish burr was muddled with wariness, waiting for the inevitable insult that never came.

Marcus swayed on his feet, looking quite green in the face. Oliver frowned before traipsing his way down the flight of stairs to stand next to the larger boy. **"Flint, I thin' we should getcha to the infirmary."**He said uncertainly, eyebrows furrowing. He didn't want the other to pass out and be found by angry Gryffindors - no doubt they would still be feeling bitter after the game, and he had no qualms to thinking they would do something to him while he was incapacitated.

**"I don' need ta go to the infirmery!" **The inebriated boy protested, garbling his words fantastically. Oliver sighed, moving his bag over to one shoulder and placing the other under the chasers arm to help him up the stairs.

And there were alot of stairs. _Why would you put the hospital wing so far up? People don't want to have to wander up flights of stairs dragging injured others!_ He thought exasperatedly, finally stumbling up the last few steps and setting off down the hall with Marcus in tow.

**"Has anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes?" **He quipped, grinning foolishly. Oliver gave a half-hearted smile in response, thinking that it was the alcohol talking. **"No! Really. They're like... brown... and..."**He seemed to struggle for a moment, trying to come up with an adaquate word to use. **"Eye-ish." **

**"Yeah."**The other boy agreed awkwardly, ignoring the owl-ish looks being cast in his direction as they finally stood in front of the doors to the hospital wing. **"I thin' ya can make it from 'ere, right?" **

The Slytherin nodded, but didn't release the death-grip he had come to have on Oliver's shirt. **"Thanks for helping me, Oliver."**Flint said, voice full of emotion. The Gryffindor made a solid pact to never help a drunk Slytherin again - it was just too weird.

He finally managed to extract himself from Marcus's grip, adjusting his bag so that it was no longer slipping out of his grasp. **"Y'ur welcome, Flint. Don' make a habit of it."**

The taller, more muscular boy seemed to hover on the verge of doing something drastic before finally falling over the edge, pulling the sandy-haired teen into a hug before releasing him and sauntering through the doors to see Madam Pomfrey.

Oliver stared wide-eyed after him, mouth slightly open, before shaking it head and passing it off as the sentiments of a less-than-sober troll, walking in the other direction towards Gryffindor Tower.

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**End Note: **Review? Next chapter to be up some time this week or next week, most likely, since I have to work on my other story some as well. ^^


	2. Reconciliation

**Author's note: **I would REALLY like to think all of you that reviewed the last chapter. ^^ It made me want to continue the story. As promised, here is the second chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one - and don't be afraid to comment! Even if its bad; you can only get better when you know what there is to improve, right?

**Special thanks: **This is a new section that I'm adding! I'll put reviewers (if there aren't too many), special shout outs, ect. here.

This weeks special thanks earners are - kiki72, Blaze Moonlight, kauri-blume, and animefanboy8888 - all for reviewing. Blaze, you were right, it was fourth year. Thats what I had put in the chapter, i think, but in the summery I had put fifth. I'll fix it - Thank you! The rest of you, thank you for the wonderful reveiws. This chapter is for you guys!

**Things I Own: **A '67 Skylark 2-door coupe, an antique sewing box that belonged to my grandmother, and a white fedora

**Things I Don't Own: **A horse, an elephant, the empire state building, and Harry Potter.

All recognizeable characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

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**Chapter Two**

**Reconciliation**

**"Oliver! Dashing to see you. Did you finish your essay on the Troll Wars for Professor Binns? Interesting subject - full of all kinds of important historic matters. Wouldn't you say, Ol' chap? I've got two feet here already, but I'm not finished yet... do you recken that he'll mind that I wrote so much extra?" **The red-headed prefect gushed, a grin plastered on his face. He was the only other Gryffindor in Oliver's year, and if he hadn't known better, he would have said that Percy was on something. As it be, however, he was starting to get the impression that the freckled-teen was, in all actuality, _off_ something that he really should have been on.

**"Yep! Paper's all done. I dunno what Binns would think - do ya actually thin' he reads them? Really? I was jus' headin' down ta the quidditch pitch. Fancy taggin' along, Perc?" **He offered, fully aware that the other would object. He had "Studying to do," and "History to learn," but really Oliver knew that the overly enthusiastic boy was afraid of flying. Something about a near-death experience when he was young. That was what the twins had said, at least. Though you really couldn't trust everything that the two of them said...

**"No! Go on ahead- I've still got to finish my essay. Throw a few bludgers at the goals for me, though!"**The Scott winced as the official Hogwarts know-it-all proved that the popular oppinions on him were, indeed, false, and he didn't know anything outside of classroom matters.

**"Yeah... I'll... I'll do that. Shoot some bludgers..."**Oliver said, furrowing his brow as he grabbed his broom and headed out the dormitory door. He scrambled down the steps to the common room two or three at a time, as many as he could manage without tripping down them all together. He managed to arrive there safely,passing Percy's younger brothers Fred and George as he pushed through the crowded room.

**"Oliver! Dashing to see you!!"**They exclaimed simultainiously, doing an uncanny impression of their older brother as they gave a pompous bow in his direction. Oliver stiffled a laugh and waved in their directions as he slung his broom over his shoulder and pushed his way out of the portrait hole.

He hadn't thought that anyone would be at the quidditch pitch - it was hot outside, and he figured that most people would be swimming in the lake or hanging out inside the castle in an effort to escape the heat. However, when he arrived, he saw a single figure at the far end of the pitch zooming around the goal posts. He squinted for a moment, trying to figure out who it was, but quickly gave up. They were moving far to fast and were too far away for him to make out.

He mounted his Comet two-sixty, pushing off the ground and feeling his troubles melt away with the euphoria that only flying could bring him. He weaved in and out of the goalposts on his end of the field, feeling the wind rush through his hair. It was an amazing feeling, all the worry from the previous week just falling away...

After a few minutes, he pulled up, deciding he would greet his flying companion so as not to seem rude. They had been ignoring each other completely, and Oliver wasn't even sure of who it was that he had been sharing the pitch with for the last ten minutes or so. He leisurly flew towards the figure, managing to make out black hair and a hulking figure before he finally placed the stopped short, a frown threatening to replace the smile on his face.

Marcus had been avoiding him since the incident the week before; the snide comments exchanged in passing had fallen from habit, and the competitivness in classes had been completely dropped. It was astounding to his fellow Gryffindors - the Slytherin chaser had always held a special grudge for the keeper, and before this week had yet to forfeit a chance to make his life miserable. In fact, before the event in the halls last week when he had pulled Marcus to the hospital wing, he hadn't known a single day to pass in all of his Hogwarts years that the abnormally large Slytherin hadn't tried to force him into a dispute of some sort or another.

Oliver held himself awkwardly as Flint seemed to notice him, noting the look of slight embarrassment that crossed his face as he pulled his own broom to a halt. **"What do you want, Wood?"** He grunted, his characteristic scowl graced his features.

What exactly did he say? 'Flint. I cant help but notice that your not trying to shove my face into a wall or break my arm - is something wrong?' It wasn't as though he missed the bi-weekly injuries that had caused him to become so familiar with the school nurse.

If it would have been a week before, the Scott would have challenged the larger boy to a not-so-friendly race around the pitch. However, with how Marcus had been skirting around him for the past few days, he wasn't sure how well that would be received. Instead, he remained silent, a look of contemplation on his face.

**"Take a picture - it'll last longer."**The Slytherin growled.

**"Thats rich, Flint. Didja come up with tha' one all by yourself?"** Came the automatic retort, causing the other boy to roll his eyes.

**"Is there any particular reason your bothering me? 'Cause I have better shit to do than to talk to your dumb-ass self." **

Oliver looked away. He had no idea what to say... but he needed to make things back to the way they were before. He didn't like this silence that had descended upon what had once been his best competition. He had no one to keep him on his toes! Out of the four of them that were destined to become captains next year, Flint was the only one that Oliver considered really worth expending time over figuring out how to beat. He didn't want it to fall into a game that was only played by half of the players.

**"I was just wonderin' how a great ogre like yourself managed ta find a broom tha' could lift ya, 'sall." **The Gryffindor finally said. He was glad to see the other boy give a fleeting smile before his carefully composed 'I'm going to kill you' look returned. Ah, good ol' Marcus Flint.

**"That the excuse your using to stare at my ass, now? I would have used something more original, myself." **He sneered in reply. **"I'm dissapointed. You are far below your usual standard, here, Wood."**

**"I wasn't starin' at ch'ur ass, Flint. The only reason anyone would 'ave a reason ta is if they've never seen a hippopautamus wear trousers a'fore."**He said blandly, expression deadpan. He stuck his tounge out, reminding both himself and the other fourth-year that they were being childish. Neither seemed to care, however, as the gesture was promptly returned by Marcus shooting his Scottish companion the finger.

**"Fuck you, Wood!"** The hulking teen spat.

Oliver grinned inwardly, working to keep his expression dour on the outside while he wanted to sigh in relief. They may not be friends, or even aquaintences; hell, they were enemies at best! But he knew that with this latest exchange, at the very least they were back to the point that they had started at.

Some things were never going to change.

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**End Notes: **Next chapter should be up either some time this week or some time next. If I start lagging too far behind on this, someone kick me - I dont want to forget or something.

Review! Review! Review! (Its almost like I'm trying to hint something, dontcha think? xDD)


	3. Alienation

**Authors Note: **Well, here it is - Chapter three! Sorry that it took so long. I know I promised this some time last week or the week before, but I've been really busy. Once again, I apologize! Anyways, this chapter is more of an extension of chapter two, only from Marcus's point of view. I got several reviews stating that it was a little confusing, so... Yep! This makes it seem a little more... I dont know. It makes more sense. I may switch chapter orders, may not. I suppose it depends. Anywho, read and review!

**Special Thanks: **Once again I would like to thank Blaze Moonlight and kiki72 for reviewing! Thanks guys!

**Things I own: **Sadly, not Harry Potter. =/ That belongs to Mrs. Rowling.

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**Chapter Three**

**Alienation**

**(Chapter two from Marcus's POV)**

Marcus started from his boredom-induced stupor as the bell rang, signaling the end of a rather long and grueling Transfiguration lesson with the Gryffindors. He quickly stowed his books in his bag, rushing to get out into the hallway before a certain keeper could corner him and provoke him out of his firm resignation to ignore him.

The week before had found him waking up in Madam Pomphrey's infirmary, an enormous hangover on his hands along with the knowledge that the woman had given him on the fact he had been brought to this particular area by one Oliver Wood. That alone was odd in itself, but adding the fact that he was drunk...

He was afraid to know what he may or may not have admitted to the boy in his less than sober state; there were certainly quite a few matters that the abnormally large Slytherin chaser would prefer to keep secret, starting with the fact that he was in love with the Gryffindor poster boy. He could barely remember the match itself, let alone the after-party and the resulting waltz down the halls with the object of his affections - how was he to know just exactly what he had said? For all he knew the Scott knew about his ... Well. There was no point in dwelling on it, now was there? He would just stand strong in his resolution and have nothing to do with the other boy other than quidditch and shared classes - end of story.

New rules! Number one - dont associate with Oliver, now to be known as the enemy, unless absolutely necessary. Number two - stop thinking about him. Find some bird to spend his time with... yes! Thats what he was going to do.

No matter how much it tormented him. He scowled at the floor as he made his way down the hallway, hoping to fly a little to ease his troubles. He passed off his school bag to Adrian Pucey, who agreed to take his friends bag back down to the Slytherin common room, and turned his attention towards stumbling to the quidditch pitch.

The stroll across the grassy feilds that were the Hogwarts grounds was more relaxing than he would have initially thought, it being filled with so many people eager to use all of the time possible to ignore their studies. The talking and flirting was but a dull buzzing in his ears, however, as he let his thoughts consume him.

Now it would be a surprise to most to note that the Slytherin troll was able to think. He had done well in his attempts to seem rather unintelligent, whether it be the case or not. Being the first born son of the Flint family and sole heir to the family estate, he had been educated as a very young age and knew far more than he would ever let on.

He had long ago absorbed the fact that unless you acted witless and immature, you were not going to get anywhere in this hell-hole that they called a school. It was the epitome of childish teens and hormonal barely-adults - there was no point in going out of his way to best people that, in his opinion, he didn't even have to expend effort to bypass in anything that he may wish to.

Forcing his mind back to the matter at hand, he was surprised to find that he was already at the quidditch pitch. The Slythering Quidditch-Captain-To-Be blinked before shrugging his shoulders. He must have been really thinking hard to not have noticed where he was. At least his feet appeared to have known where he was going.

Marcus hummed as he sauntered to the broom shed, pulling out a battered looking Comet Two-Sixty and sloshing through the hap-hazard mud-puddles that dotted the pathway into the stadium. The rainy weather had long since ceased, but the wet that seemed to coat everything had yet to disappear. It was though everything had been under an ocean for months, and upon finally seeing the sun they were unable to dry themselves.

He grumbled, trying to shake a little of the dirt from the hem of his robes, before mounting his broomstick and soaring up into the air. His ebony hair, which hung down to just below his ears, whipped around him as he rose higher and higher, flattening himself against the handle of his broom so that he was streaking along faster and faster with each passing second.

His muscles reacted to the adrenaline rush, blood roaring in his ears as he dived strait at the ground and pulled up seconds before he would have rammed himself into the dirt. He pulled up slightly, a delighted sigh escaping his lips before he could catch it as he weaved in and out of the goal posts nearest him.

It was several minutes before he noticed that he was not alone. He paused in his flying, squinting to see who it was and making his face scrunched up to show his crooked teeth all the more. He could just barely make out the sandy hair that he knew, for a fact, belonged to Oliver bloody Wood. He hurumphed, grimacing to himself and turning away, ignoring the other teen profusely in his efforts for his resolve to remain in tact.

However, it wasn't long before the Scott appeared to notice him as well. He began flying over, pausing about where Marcus supposed he would have identified just who he was dealing with. He looked over his shoulder, subtly noticing things that he really shouldn't have thought about another male, especially his arch-rival. He maneuvered his broom around, pulling it to a stop to scowl at the other despite the slight blush coloring his normally pale cheeks.

**"What do you want, Wood?" **He growled, gripping his broom tighter as he realized that he had broken new rule number one.

He studied his companie's apprent internal struggle to find something to say, finally getting annoyed at the lack of a response. The Gryffindor was just sitting there, staring at him! **"Take a picture. It'll last longer."** He spat.

**"That's rich, Flint. Didja come up with tha' one all by yourself?" **Came the retort.

**"Is there any particular reason your bothering me? 'Cause I have better shit to do than to talk to your dumb-ass self." **Marcus raised his eyebrows in question.

There was a long pause in which Marcus contemplated just leaving, but he wanted to see where this would head. This would let him know, once and for all, just exactly what the other boy knew. What he had told him.

Because there was no doubt in his mind that the sandy-haired keeper would say something if anything that was particularly embarrassing had slipped. It was just how things were between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin...

**"I was just wonderin' how a great ogre like yourself managed ta find a broom tha' could lift ya, 'sall." **It was so quiet that Marcus had almost not heard it, taking him by surprise by the sudden lack of silence. Marcus allowed the smile of releif that he was trying to hold back slip out breifly before his facade was once more in place. Apparently things were still normal between them! He hadn't proffessed his love, or some shit like that....

**"That the excuse your using to stare at my ass, now? I would have used something more original, myself." **He sneered in reply. **"I'm dissapointed. You are far below your usual standard, here, Wood."**

**"I wasn't starin' at ch'ur ass, Flint. The only reason anyone would 'ave a reason ta is if they've never seen a hippopautamus wear trousers a'fore."** The old Marcus barreled its way out as the sudden anger rose inside of him, threatening to bubble out of him and make him do something stupid. Instead, he just forced words out of his mouth in reply. Not that what he said was very dignified, either, but....

**"Fuck you, Wood!" **He growled with a glare. He contented himself in having the last word - and in knowing that his secret was safe. To tell the truth, avoiding the object of his affection had been rather troublesome... especailly as the teen seemed to seek him out at every turn. He was... glad... that they were back on their previous terms. Friends, not really, but...

Well, whatever they had was good enough for him.

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**End Notes: **Reviews are ALWAYS welcome! =) I hope you enjoyed this chapter - I tried to make it where it explained chapter two a little better. x.o I know that it was a bit confusing, so...

Yeah.


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